


Es Fuerte

by iamfandom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel!Castiel, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Female Lead, Hunters, M/M, Original Character(s), Own Character, Relationship!Sam, assassin warrior
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 02:39:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1573073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamfandom/pseuds/iamfandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little domestic, a little case!fic, and a little bit of female badassery. Team Free Will takes time off after Metatron and looks towards organizing and archiving the catacombs of the Bunker. Every once an a while, they'd take cases. On one particular case, they run into a particular someone who is been on their trail for a while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Time

The first time the Winchesters met the girl, she came like a knight cloaked in the shadows and saved their sorry asses.

~

           Charlie had called the Winchesters at the bunker, and informed them of a case. Charlie herself had been in an undisclosed location slowly building up a mass database of hunters, lore, and other things that go bump in the night. The database was also programed to scan all online news, social media, and other forms of information for certain words and locations, and maps out cases for hunters. Of course she was still working on it, but that didn’t mean she already was slowly becoming the ‘Bobby’ of the hunting trade.

           So anyway, she contacted them that there was a case that seemed to be a small clan of vampires a state north of them.

           “A small clan”

           The Winchesters hightailed it up to the site and began on the case immediately. But what was thought to be a simple, easy case took a turn for the worst.

           When they had gathered enough information to find a location and an assumed amount of vampires they got ready to take on the vamps.

           But when the brothers reached the warehouse and stepped inside the dimly lighted structure, they were bombarded immediately, Dean being knocked out and Sam following soon after.

~

            The Winchesters were being slowly drained to death. After they had realized too late that they were utterly outnumbered, they were knocked unconscious and tied up to the low rafters of the warehouse. An IV line ran from their forearms to an empty blood bag; well, a half empty blood bag.

            Sam Winchester woke up to a cold sweat covering his body. He looked over with what little strength he had to find his brother completely out cold and paler than he had ever seen him. A voice made him look forward.

            “Oh wow. The Winchesters. Not as notoriously skilled as my predecessors have claimed.” Out of the shadows stood a well-dressed Hispanic man who looked to be in his forties. The way he spoke made Sam assume he was the alpha of the clan.

            “It is quite interesting truly,” the blood-sucker continued on, as every villainous creature does. Sam’s attention was waning. He started seeing dark spots in his vision and was hardly able to concentrate on the vampire’s foolish little speech before he offed them. He certainly didn’t notice the silhouette hidden in the shadows of the warehouse. The only light bleeding in from the ceiling was the one of the full moon.

            “It will be truly exciting to feast upon your blood, boys,” the alpha said as he stepped closed and barred his fangs. Other vampires, who must’ve been hiding silently in the back began to step forward, and also bare their fangs, ready to suck away at the blood left in their bodies and in the blood sacks.

            Sam knew it was over; all that they had been through and it comes to this; a clan of vamps.

            But little did he know that the shadow figure in the corner was not of blood-sucking ways.

            In seconds, a slim figure appeared in the back of the room, highlighted by the dim light of the window. She was clad in a[ hooded leather jacket](http://cdna.lystit.com/photos/2013/04/25/all-saints-sandringham-black-kushiro-leather-biker-jacket-product-1-8197013-180895784_large_flex.jpeg) that cast a shadow over her eyes and the bridge of her nose and thick, [dark jeans](http://media.topshop.com/wcsstore/TopShop/images/catalog/02S50EWBK_large.jpg) making her seem like a professional assassin. But she was way past seeming like an assassin. Sam watched in his dazed state as she cut the heads off of each vampire from behind with a [long Colima machete](http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTMG-SsMqUcb__tdRZCM1r_l1PFgeq-pCdGx1SWk9z8440Ze-L6qg). Not until three heads were rolling on the ground did the other vamps notice her appearance. Sam was worried for her, being as she was extremely outnumbered and the alpha had noticed her approach.

            The hooded huntress was ready for each and every one of them. She started by swinging her machete through each head as it came at her, but due to the increasing numbers coming at her, she pulled a [long bowie knife](http://images.ontheedgebrands.com/get/w/400/h/400/A17-TR65.image?notfound=notavailable) out of her [high boots](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r0-r_45IkC0/TNrBWGKyIfI/AAAAAAAAGt8/kr6hXs5MdCU/s1600/fitzwell%2Bwide%2Bcalf%2Bboot.jpg) and started whacking away.

            She had grace and skill. She wouldn’t stop or pause to breathe; finish slicing through one and turn to stab and slice at another. It came down to two vamps left and the alpha. The vamps tried to take her at opposite sides but she simply extended both her arms at the same time and sliced off both heads in unison.

            “Well… this is unfortunate. Another hunter to join the party. I’ll just have to kill you live. Disgusting business, hbut it must be done,” the creature said as the assassin sheathed her stained bowie knife in her boot and clutched her machete. Sam couldn’t see any any detail in her face from the ten feet she stood away from him. The hood covered up most of her face and the only light reached her thin dark lips.

            “Yes, well, great idea,” she started, taking a step towards the alpha, “but that didn’t seem to work out for your comrades here.” The alpha lunged at her, but she was quick to dive out of the way and turn with such agility, that Sam couldn’t believe what was happening. She plunged a large syringe filled with, what he could assume was dead man’s blood, into the alpha’s neck. He immediately went slack to the ground.

            Slowly, she stood up and took a deep breath. She turned to face the boy hanging by their wrists.  For a moment, Sam was scared she was going to take off their heads.

            His fears were confirmed when she lifted her bloody machete and swung at them.

            Sam fell to his knees on the hard ground. He quickly pulled out the IV and rubbed at his wrists. Then he shifted over to help Dean, who was still unconscious on the floor.

            “It’s good to finally get a close up look at you Winchesters,” the hooded figure said standing above Sam, “but really you aren’t all that you’re cracked up to be.”

            And with that, she turned and left leaving Sam Winchester utterly stunned. 


	2. The Second Time

The second time they encountered her, she swindled them of their belongings.

~

            The Winchesters had had a long day. Dean wished he could shake all the numbers and names of the never ending assortment of things that needed archiving in that hell hole of a bunker. Of course, the bunker was looking a lot nicer and there was a lot more room (Dean was personally hoping that they’d install a home theater one day in this place) in the bunker. They had even found a large circular room filled with old exercising mats. Sam had said that it might have been used for spell working back when the Men of Letters ran the place. Dean didn’t really care about that stuff; all he knew is that it would make an awesome workout room.

            So due to all their hard work, the Winchesters had called it a night and headed up to a local bar. Charlie was coming in to help them tomorrow afternoon so they had all the time in the world.

            Dean hit on girls and Sam drank and talked to the bartender, nothing out of the ordinary, except for the hooded figure walking across the parking lot towards the antique car.

            She had been in Kansas for two weeks now and she officially named it her least favorite state out of all 49 she had been to (She’ll get to Hawaii one day if it cost her her life). She observed the Winchesters as they came in and out of there cave in the ground. She watched where they went and what bars they hit.

            Tonight, she had decided, was the night she was going to bust into the bunker.

            And it was going to be extremely easy.

            She walked briskly across the lot with her warm hoody pulled over her head and clutched two bobby pins in her pocket. Her worn Chuck Taylors hardly made a sound on the pavement.

            Once she rounded the corner of the building and came to the back end of the beautiful car, she started working on the lock to the trunk. Growing up having to fend for herself and steal often she knew her way around a lock.

            In five minutes time the trunk popped open. She propped it up and opened the fake bottom of it to reveal an assortment of fun weapons. Instead of grabbing at the demon knife or the devil’s trap chains (even though it was _oh so tempting_ to take them) she grabbed at a small bronze-ish colored box. Making sure it was the legit key; she opened it up and then closed it and slipped it into her hoody pocket. Then she put a small post-it note in the empty space and closed the trunk.

            In the dead of night, she walked back to her junk car, passed the window of the lively bar, and off to the bunker.

            Later that night, when Dean was too drunk to walk straight and Sam was partially sober they found a note in their unlocked trunk reading:

**Thanks guys! I really appreciate your willingness to help! ~Your Saving Grace**

~

            It took her all of five minutes to get back to the hole in the ground. All she had to do was slip the key into the slot and open the door and she was in. Before diving into the caverns, she slipped the key back into its box and hid it in some tree roots by the entrance and covered it with leaves.

            The hall was like nothing she had ever seen before. Scratch that—this is what she dreamed of. Walls lined with books and large tunnels to be explored; a place to call home. She shook her head. No need for those kinds of silly thoughts. She had a job to get done.

            Quickly, she climbed down the steps and walked across the hall to a kitchen where she opened drawers one by one until she found five wads of cash in one. Five grand was enough to get by for a long time. She also pulled one of the many phones in a choir and slipped it into her pocket.

            Then she walked down the long hallways looking for the boys’ rooms. There had to be more cash or important weaponry in the rooms.

            She came across Dean’s first. The walls were lined with all sorts of knives and guns.  There was also a gallon of holy water at the base of the bed and a small hand gun on the night table. Dean was a superstitious one, go figure.

            Nothing stood out to her in the room so she was on her way to turn and try and find the younger brother’s room until she spotted the journal.

            It was leather bound and definitely well worn. It was the only book in the room. It had to be important. She quickly grabbed it and sped down the hall looking in the rooms and then turning back to leave. She took out a piece of loose leaf paper from her back pocket and placed it on the table in the main hall of the bunker and climbed back up the metal steps. Five grand, an important information source, a cell, and a few guns; that should be enough to go off of for a while.

            She closed the door behind her as she left the bunker and climbed into her car and sped away.

~

            Dean certainly sobered up when he realized what had happened. On the drive back to the bunker he yelled at Sam for A) driving his car (although Dean himself was a drunken mess) and B) someone had gotten into his home.

            When they pulled up to the grassy hill, Dean immediately shoved out of the car and began banging on the metal door to the bunker yelling obscene things into the abyss. Sam just sat in the car. He didn’t want to give up but he had to. They just lost their headquarters; their most valuable asset, to a thief. But that’s when he got the text.

**“Tree roots to your left ~Your Lovely Savior”**

            Sam jumped out of the car and ran over to the clump of oak roots next to the metal door. He brushed away at the ground an immediately found the small box and took it over to Dean. Dean’s aggression was wearing off, but he was still pissed when Sam opened the door to the bunker.

            Nothing seemed out of place except for the folded note on the table. Sam wondered if the girl had stolen anything at all and was just doing this to mess with their heads. Dean rushed down the stairs and grabbed the note off the table and ripped it open. Angrily, he read it aloud to Sam.

            **“I hope you don’t mind me borrowing, I mean, I did save your lives and all. Have a good life! ~The Reason You’re Alive”**

            Dean smacked the paper down on the table and immediately went looking through the bunker to check if all the valuables were still in place.

            The brothers found that none of the newly archived things had been taken, which surprised them. Why would you steal from a temple of knowledge and power, but not steal any of the knowledge or power?

            Dean did eventually discover the missing cash and phone, which Sam and realized that that was where the text came from.

            Sam pushed his hair back and let loose an exhausted sigh. He murmured a goodnight to Dean and walked off to his room.

            He was throwing on comfortable pants when he heard Dean yell down the hall, “SHE TOOK DAD’S JOURNAL DAMNIT. OUT OF EVERYTHING. THAT BITCH.”

            Sam went to bed wondering what the point in her actions was. He was a bit angry that the huntress took their most precious thing left from their father, but he was more curious than anything.

~

            Only ten miles away the girl reclined in the back of the junker car and opened the musty journal.


	3. The Third Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Infuriatingly enough, the Winchesters run into the mystery girl a third time, but this time they have no idea that they have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that my grammar is a bit horrible, but mind you I am beginning to edit and re-post. Thank you for your patience with stupidity.

The third time the Winchesters met the hooded figure, she was one of many.

~

                The Winchesters had missed their angel. Since he had been too busy organizing heaven after Metatron’s demise, there hadn’t been much time for socializing. But after a long three months, he came back to visit the boys.

                Sam was overjoyed to have Cas back, but Dean definitely missed the bone head the most. Now that Cas had all this pop culture knowledge, Dean was forcing him to watch all the movies each night after archiving.

                Tonight though, the boys and the angel decided to hit the bar instead. Dean insisted that they go to a different bar farther out of town just in case the thief was still lurking about. At that Sam rolled his eyes but agreed.

                The bar wasn’t as lively on that Wednesday night. There was, of course, your regulars and your heartbreaks and your douche bags; a normal community in a bar.

                She had a lot of experience with each of the categories. As she sat in the dim lit corner of the bar in her black cocktail dress she observed the hunters walking into the bar.

                Her hair was curled in ringlets and she had more make up on than she could remember. Her lips were painted a light champagne color and her eyes blue (thanks to the contacts); totally unrecognizable if the boys ever spotted her. She swirled her whiskey around the glass as she watched them sit down. Dean seemed to get into quite the discussion with his trench coat friend. He leaned over and whispered into the angel’s ear.

                Lucky for the woman sitting in the corner booth of the bar, she could read lips, and Dean’s lips were very clearly spoken. _Go over and talk to her. It’s simple._ Cas looked utterly confused and glanced back at her booth. She quickly looked down at her drink to make it seem like she wasn’t paying any attention to them. Dean nudged him with his knee and Sam gave him some encouraging words.

                The disguised assassin watched as the angel stood from his bar stool. Dean motioned for him to turn towards him. The angel took off his trench coat and laid it across the stool. Dean undid his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. Then the older Winchester put his hand on the angel’s shoulder and smiled at him encouragingly. Anyone else in the bar, including the younger Winchester, would think it was a friendly smile, but the girl in the corner could read the slight emotion in Dean’s eyes.

                Dean gave Cas a thumbs up and turned him around. The angel proceeded to walk over to the girl. She looked up with a charming smile on her face when he stood in front of the table.

                “Umm, hello. I was wondering if I could buy you a drink.” If an angel could sweat, Cas would.

                She gave him a reassuring smile, and motioned for him to sit down. “Well thank you for the offer but I think I’m good. What might your name be?”

                The angel was tense in the booth facing the assassin. “Castiel,” he said a bit shakily. Cas glimpsed back at the brothers at the bar but then quickly looked back at the girl.

                “Well Castiel,” she said setting her whiskey down and scooting a bit closer to the angel, “I appreciate the offer, but I believe that your friend is more of your type.”

                Cas looked up at her with a bit of a stunned expression and quickly got up with murmured “Thank you.”

                The woman took one last sip of her whiskey and watched as Castiel replayed the story to Dean. The hunter was smiling up to the point where Cas explained what she had said before he left. Dean looked up over at the smirking girl’s table with a look of horror but quickly covered it up. Sam started laughing but Dean quickly punched him in the thigh to get him to shut up. Cas interrogates Dean on what she had meant, but Dean just brushed him off taking drinks from his beer and sending glares over to the woman.

                The assassin stood up from her table and left a few dollars to tip. She grabbed her clutch and, smiling, she proceeded to leave the bar. On her way out, Dean turned to glare at her once more but she just returned it with a smile.

                Sam also turned to look at her as she left, and for a moment, she thought she saw a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, but it went away quickly.

                Being careful not to ruin her disguise, she kept the confident smile and threw a wink at the younger Winchester boy as she walked out.


	4. The Fourth and Final Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last time the Winchesters run into the hooded figure, they because a bit more familiar with her true identity.

The fourth time the Winchesters had the lucky chance to come across the huntress, they saw her face.

~

                “Shit,” she whispered as she ran with what little adrenaline she had left. There was no moon that night so it was pitch dark in the streets of St. Louis. Clutching her stomach, she whipped around a corner and slid down the wall of a narrow alley way. When she lifted her arm up it took everything in her not to scream in agony. The small shops and street lamps gave little light to the blood gushing out of the claw wound on her abdomen.

                Only minutes before that she had saved the Winchesters once again. They had been following a pack of werewolves up to the downtown area of the city. Sam could’ve sworn on his life that the wolf they had cornered was the leader, but it was only mere bait.

                Dean was holding pressure on the trigger of the gun, ready to put a silver bullet into the werewolf son of a bitch when they were taken from behind. The four wolves were on them in seconds ready to tear their throats out when, once again, out of the shadows, came the girl clad in the same exact wear she wore the night she saved their lives the first time.

                Instead of a long machete this time, she held two hand guns and had a string of clips slung across her middle. She took out one after another, starting by putting a bullet through the head of a werewolf whose teeth were marking on Sam’s neck. The body of the creature immediately went slack and Sam pushed it off to start shooting at the others. It took Sam and Dean to hold down the real leader and shoot it through the head, and that was the moment the assassin was planning on leaving the brothers once again. It was a good distraction.

                Too bad there was still the lone werewolf. When she turned to run away, the werewolf turned the corner and slashed through her jacket. She felt the burn, but there was no time for pain. Adrenaline pumping through her body, she kicked the werewolf’s head in and that successfully knocked it to the ground just as the piercing sound of a bullet rang through the alleyway. Sam and Dean were just beginning to stand up, when they saw the girl take off clutching her bloody self.

                So now she was here; slowly dying in the dark alleyway. _What a crap place to die_ she thought to herself. Her breathing slowed and the little lights of the city began to dim out.

                “SAM! SAM I FOUND HER!” the eldest Winchester called out.

                As the girl was fading away, the Winchester knelt down beside her and quickly held pressure to the wound. Sam rounded the corner to the alley and also knelt down at her opposite side.

                “We have to get her sewn up. Help me get her to the car,” Sam said as Dean wrapped his arms under her knees and shoulders. In that moment, her hood fell back and in the light of the bars and shops, they saw her face.

                Her eyes were a deep dark brown. Her hair, which was short and messily braided, was the same color. Sam could’ve pegged her as distantly Hispanic by the lovely olive skin she had. He remembered those lips from the first meeting, along with her voice, which was currently muttering pained curses.

                “Oh fuck. Shit. Leave me be. Sons of Bitches.”

                “Oh hell no bitch,” Dean said as he picked her up in his arms, “You saved our asses now we’re gonna save yours.”

~

                They find an old motel, similar to the hundreds the Winchesters must’ve stayed in as kids, and paid for the night. It was an eight hour drive back to Kansas, one that they would not make with the girl moaning in pain in the back of the Impala.

                After they park and get the key to the motel, Sam reaches in and picks her up off the seat. Dean opens the trunk to get the first aid kit and a change of clothes and then slams it shut and run after Sam into the motel room.

                Dean takes off his layer of plaid and lays it down on the bed so that they keep the blood stains to a minimum. Sam makes work of undoing her thick jacket and pushing up her tank top underneath to reveal a nasty gash.

                The pain is unbearable. When Dead starts to pour the alcohol over the wound, the burning pain is enough to knock the huntress out for good. 


	5. How To Annoy Dean Winchester 101

                She woke up in a concrete box. Not literally, but that’s what the room looked like. There was a lamp on the corner of the night table next to her and a door across the room. The bed was the most comfortable thing she had slept on in years. It definitely beat the back of trucks and buses.

                When she pushed herself up on the bed she notices that she is not wearing the same shirt she had been wearing. This one was a dark navy blue and was quite form fitting. She pushed the shirt up a bit to reveal a large white bandage around her middle. Now she is scared. Where was she? What happened? All she could remember was the distant yelling of two voices and she was out. She started pushing herself out of the bed, relieved to find that she still had her familiar dark jeans on and quietly pushed open the door.

                “No guys, I found nothing,” came a voice down the hall, “She’s a digital ghost.”

                The assassin was recognizing where she was. It was the bunker. The cavernous home to the Winchesters; a place she had been certain she wouldn’t ever come back to.

                She crept down the hall, following the sound of voices coming from the library area. Before she made her way to the great room, she stopped and peered into the elder Winchester’s room. Empty.

                She snuck in and slipped the hand gun off the table and propped it up on her arm. She was only ten feet away from turning the corner when Dean commanded, “Well, keep looking. There has to be something. I’m going to go check on her.” And with that, she heard the scratch of a chair across the floor.

                Quickly she threw herself into the nearest room and hid under the empty bed frame. She watched as the steel toed boots of Dean Winchester clunked down the hall. As quietly as she could, she slid out from other the bed and went into the hall.

                Sam and Charlie’s backs’ were turned. They were hunched over a computer and typing away at their phones.

                The assassin propped her gun and trained it on the younger Winchester. She let a little pressure on the trigger and took in a deep breath.

                “What in the living hell am I doing here?”

                Sam quickly turned to face her reaching for the gun in his jeans. The girl shook her head and motioned for him to bring his hands up with her gun.

                Charlie turned also, a dear-in-the-headlights look gracing her face. She popped her hands up as well.

                “Let me ask that again. What the hell am I doing here? And I swear to god you better answer or else I’ll shoot.”

                Sam opened his mouth to answer, but the girl’s gun was quickly knocked out of her hands. Dean came behind her and brought her arms down behind her back.

                The girl put up a fight. She twisted and pulled and finally kicked her leg back and hit Dean in an unfortunate spot. He loosened his grip on her and she pulled free. But now Sam had the gun trained on her.

                “Okay, calm down. We don’t want to hurt you.”

                “No, NO!” the girl yelled. “Let me leave. You don’t want me here. I don’t want to be here. Just let me leave and we will be fine. Just… let me go.”

                Sam was internally disturbed by the girl’s distrust and fear. She was scared to death of the idea of safety.

                “We need you to calm down,” Dean said quietly. “We don’t want to hurt you. Let’s just talk.”

                The girl was breathing hard. Dean and Sam had their guns propped up, but slowly lowered them. She regained her confidence, and straightened her posture. Charlie slowly sat back down at her computer and typed away.

                “Okay,” the girl said calmly, “Let’s talk.”

~

                Ten or so minutes later, Sam and Dean sat across from each other at the table with beers and Charlie was behind her computer, but still attentive, and the assassin sat next to Sam, fiddling with a glass of water.

                She was leaning back in the chair with a neutral expression on her face although Sam knew she had to be in pain due to the wound. She took a sip of water and looked up at the boys.

                “So what do you want to know?” she asked.

                Sam and Dean exchanged a look. “How about your name?” Dean asked.

                The girl looked down at her drink, and Sam noticed a flash of guilt cross her expression, and then she looked up and answered simply, “Annalise. But feel free to call me Anna.”

                “No last name?”

                “Nope.”

                “Okay,” Dean said looking over at his brother. “Are you a hunter?”

                “Sure. Whatever you want to call me. But I don’t like to associate myself with that crowd.”

                “What do you mean?”

                She put her glass down and leaned forward to look Dean in the eye across the table. “Hunters tend to involve themselves in situations that aren’t meant to be messed with; the majority is rude, sexist, and superstitious. I’d rather not be pegged with that crowd.”

                Dean nodded his head and took a swig of his beer. He looked over at Sam and lifted an eyebrow, as if expecting him to join in at any time.

                “Do you hunt alone?” Sam said.

                “Yes.”

                Sam and Dean once again exchange looks and Charlie momentarily looks up from her laptop. There is a beat of awkward silence.

                “If you have something to say, I’d appreciate if you said it to my face,” Annalise said taking a swig of water.

                “It’s just—“Dean started.

                “We’ve never met a hunter that survived hunting alone,” Sam ended.

                The girl nodded her head thoughtfully. “But I’m not and never will be a hunter.”

                “Why did you help us? Did you just happen to stumble upon the situation?” Dean asked getting a bit frustrated. Sam internally laughed at that. Dean and Annalise had very similar personalities; both stubborn and not quick to trust.

                The girl shrugged. “After your little do about with Lucifer and the rogue angels, I tailed you. I wanted to know what you were up to, and I know a bunch of hunters wanted to know as well. I knocked a few off your trail, and you’re welcome for that,” the girl smiled smugly and took another drink. “I, of course, took care of other things while you two dilly dallied, but I stayed close. So when you guys ran head first into that vampire clan, I couldn’t just let you die.”

                Sam was intrigued. She wasn’t telling them the full story, and he knew it, but he didn’t want to push it. They were already in a tedious situation.

                “I liked messing with you guys,” she said finishing off her water, “not a very attentive group.”

                “I also needed a bit of cash and I knew you guys had headquarters in the area so I decided to stop by. I hope you don’t mind.”

                Before Dean could butt in she continued on, “Other times I could just walk right up to you and you wouldn’t know who I was. It was priceless.”

                “What do you mean?” Sam asked.

                “I mean ‘sexy girl in bar that I shall flirt with.’ By the way, where is your angel? I was hoping he would catch on.”

                “He is dealing with other things,” Dean said. “You mean you were the girl who turned him down?”

                “Excuse me,” she said looking directly at Dean with a smug smile, “I don’t believe I turned him down. I enlightened him a bit.”

                “Whatever,” Dean mumbled looking away.

                “Anyway, I screwed up in the end and now I’m here with a gaping hole in my stomach.”

                She took a deep breath and turned to the boys. “If you let me on my way, I promise that I won’t cause any trouble or mess with you guys anymore.”

                Charlie looked up from her laptop and at both the boys before looking at Annalise. “You were pretty badass from what I heard. Nice job, destroying the patriarchy and all that; one small step for you but one giant leap for feminism.”

                “Thanks. I’m glad to see these boys have someone of true intelligence leading them,” Annalise said smiling. Charlie smiled back.

                Sam looked at his brother, who was looking away dejectedly, and shrugged. Dean lifted his eyebrows and shrugged as well.

                “Well,” Same said standing up from his chair and taking his empty beer bottle in his hand, “You are welcome to stay for the night.”

                “Thanks, but I think I’ll hit the road. Mind if I borrow a car, or if you know where I can get one?”

                “No,” Dean said abruptly, standing up from the table. Charlie looked up momentarily.

                Annalise raised an eyebrow and looked up at the elder Winchester. “Does that mean I’m a prisoner?”

                “No,” Dean repeated, walking his beer bottle to the kitchen and throwing it in the trash. He turned around, leaned his back against the counter, and crossed his arms against his chest. “You can’t drive with that nasty cut. You’ll stay here until you are fully healed.”

                Dean actually wanted to know more about this girl. She couldn’t just show up in the middle of nowhere, claiming she had been following them, and pretending like she knew shit about them. He wasn’t going to let her go anywhere until he got Cas’ feathery ass back down on Earth so that the angel could tell them a bit more on her and if he’d known. If Charlie couldn’t find anything, then Cas would be the next best on getting information.

                Annalise stood from her chair, and without flinching, said, “No way Dean Winchester. You can ask nicely, but you are in no way the boss of me.” 

                Charlie glanced up at the two having a silent face-off, smiled a bit, and went back to her work.

                “You’re staying here and that’s final.” Dean stalked away.

                The assassin rolled her eyes and turned to follow him down the hall leaving Charlie alone in the vast library.

                “Well this is going to be a hellish week,” Charlie mumbled, staring at the bright screen of her laptop.


End file.
